“Hey, kid,” Ky said gruffly.

Grace smiled at him, and I heard Ky’s breath hitch. “You look like me too,” Grace said and pointed to her hair.

“Yeah,” Ky rasped. “The same hair and eyes too, kid.”

Grace looked back to Lilah. “Is Aunt Phebe going to live with us too?”

Grace’s question was like a bucket of ice-cold water over the happiness Lilah had found. Stephen crouched down next to Grace. “Aunt Phebe has had to go away for a while, Grace. She wanted you to get to know your new mama and papa first.”

Grace nodded her head like that made perfect sense.

“Do we have a house?” Grace asked Lilah. “Aunt Phebe said that you would have a home. With a bed.” She paused, then said, “I have never slept in a real bed before. Just on a mattress on the floor of the children’s quarters. The prophet told me I would sleep with him very soon, in his bed. A real bed, but that has not happened yet.”

Lilah flinched at Grace’s words, and it took her several seconds to pull herself together. I pushed back vomit at the thought of what Judah had planned to do with the kid. “Yes,” Lilah said breathlessly. “We have a home . . . with a room that I think has been waiting just for you.”

Grace laughed in happiness and Lilah stood, looking over at her sisters with an overwhelmed expression on her face.

“Come on, kid, we’ll show you your new house.” Ky bent down and took Grace in his arms. Lilah, Ky and Grace walked away, Grace staring up at them in complete fascination.

The other brothers began to filter into the clubhouse. And I didn’t know what the fuck to do. Suddenly, Bella was at my side, looking completely stunned by everything.

“Bella,” Mae called. “I will take Stephen and Ruth to my home to rest. Styx will give your other two friends rooms in the clubhouse.” Mae looked at me and smiled. “I am sure you wish to spend time with Rider.”

Styx met my eyes with a meaningful glare. I understood his message, a message that wouldn’t be spoken aloud. Then he lifted his hands and signed at me. I nodded, then reached down for Bella’s hand.

“What did he say?” she asked.

I forced a smile. “That I can clean up in his old room in the clubhouse.” Bella’s smile almost broke my heart.

“He is trusting you again?” she asked hopefully.

I shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Bella’s palm met my cheek. “Come. You need rest. You need to bathe.”

I let Bella pull me toward the clubhouse, then I took her to Styx’s old room. It looked exactly the same as it always had. Bella closed the door behind us, locking us away from everything outside, and stood in front of me. I didn’t know what to say.

My mind had clogged into a thick fog. My eyes burned from too many tears. And I was tired.

So fucking tired.

Without speaking, Bella began shedding my clothes from me. I let her. My arms hung limply at my sides as she rid me of my jacket and shirt. All the time she undressed me, I watched her stunning face, and a glimmer of hope pierced the numbness in my heart.

Because now she would be free.

“What is your real age?” I asked. I had suddenly realized she would not be twenty-three after all. That was another ruse to keep Judah from discovering her true identity.

Bella stilled. “Twenty-six. I am twenty-six.” She ran her hand over my bare torso. “And you?”

“Twenty-four,” I said. “But I feel older. I feel like I have lived a thousand lives.” I leaned against the door. “I’m tired, Bella. I’m . . . I’m so fucking tired.”

A brief flash of worry formed on her face. Wordlessly, she took my hand and led me to the bathroom. As usual, the bathroom was clean and fully stocked with towels and any other shit you could need—the club sluts were always seeking approval. Bella walked to the shower. She struggled with how to turn it on at first, but steam soon began to billow out into the bathroom. I inhaled the warm air and closed my eyes.

Gentle hands suddenly touched the button of my leathers. I looked down; Bella pulled them down over my legs until they were off and I stood naked before her.

She lifted her hands to the straps of her dress and brought them off her shoulders. When the dress pooled at her feet, when her perfect, beautiful body was bared to me, all I could do was stare.

She was so fucking perfect, so kind and so damn strong . . .

I didn’t deserve her.

She took my hand and led me into the shower. I hissed as the red-hot water hit the wounds and cuts on my skin. Bella shifted me to face the spray, and I let her. Right now I didn’t want to make any decisions. I didn’t wanna take the lead no more. I didn’t wanna think, I didn’t wanna remember . . . anything.

The water pounded on my head. Bella’s hands moved to my body. She began to wash away the remnants of today—the blood, the fucking horror of being helpless to save the innocent.

I gasped, slapping my hand on the tiles for balance as the memories began to seep through the cracks in the armor around my mind. But Bella didn’t stop. Her hands worked shampoo into my long hair and my beard, clearing them of the blood . . . so much fucking blood.

Then, one by one, the faces of the dead came rushing back . . . the many faces, the fucking terrified faces of the children thrashing, reaching out for help, no one meeting their searching hands. The people who were shot as they tried to run away, afraid to die. The screams, the music drowning out the agony.

Then there was Judah . . . his choked breath calling me “brother”, telling me he loved me as I watched his eyes lose their light, their life . . . Cain . . . Cain . . . his fucking silent heart.

A loud, pain-filled cry shattered the silence in the shower. It wasn’t until I dropped to the shower floor that I realized that the noise had come from me. My legs had given way until I sat, hunched down, under the heavy spray.

“Rider!” Bella called and dropped down beside me. My long wet hair gathered forward, shielding my face. But Bella’s hands were there, guiding me back until I slumped against the wall.

“Rider . . . baby . . . ” she whispered. Her soft voice was thick with sympathy. It only made the pain worse.

I tried to shake my head to rid myself of the unwanted images, to block the screams from my head. But they didn’t go away. They only got louder. Deafening, racking screams of terror.




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